Lovers in a Dangerous Time
by Elske
Summary: What happens when the sensible side of Elske goes 'wait, students aren't allowed to date teachers'. Mostly a Penelope story (Penelope-n-Ron), also starring Ron and Percy-n-Oliver, cameo appearances by Neville, Harry, Hermione, etcetera.
1. When you're lovers in a dangerous time, ...

Title: Lovers in a Dangerous Time  
Author: Elske  
Email: theladyingrey@yahoo.com  
Status: Work in progress (1/?)  
Category: Romance, Drama  
Spoilers: A teensy bit for CoS, for the other stories I've written, I suppose  
Season/Sequel info: It takes place in Harry Potter (and the rest's) 7th year, it comes directly after my "Hero of my Dreams"  
Rating: PG  
Content Warnings: some non-graphic homosexual content (Percy/Oliver, another pairing alluded to) It's all very sweet, but some people don't like any of that, so...  
Summary: Ooo, something long and in chapters! What happens when the sensible side of Elske says 'wait a minute...students can't date teachers'. Mostly a Penelope story, also starring Ron (yes, this is Penny-n-Ron) and Percy and Oliver...cameos by Neville and Harry and Hermione, of course.   
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros... This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.   
Thanks to: Teague, for being my wonderful beta! Also, thanks to Ciel for her comments on hair-modesty, and to Katie for telling me to "stop wasting time and get back to writing my-I mean your-story!"   
  
  
"Lovers in a Dangerous Time"  
by Elske  
(Part One)  
"When you're lovers in a dangerous time sometimes you're made to feel as if your love's a crime" -- ?? (to be determined once I figure out who deserves credit for the lyrics)  
  
The infamous four - Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley- were, again, perilously close to being late for their potions class. As seventh-years, they should have known better. As Head Girl, Hermione really should have known better. If pressed, she'd blame it on the influence of her occasionally irresponsible companions.  
"Can't we hurry, just a bit? We're about to be late!" Neville said, almost frantically. He still had a rather irrational fear of being late to potions, probably due to memories of the wrath of Professor Snape.  
"Neville, relax!" Hermione replied, stopping and turning around to look at him. "We've plenty of time. Well, maybe not plenty...enough. We've enough time." She smirked at him before starting walking again.  
"Still...you never know..." Neville responded. You never did know, did you? I mean...just because things had been going better for him lately was no reason to assume that that wouldn't change. Sure, and he'd been doing fabulously in Potions all year. Ever since Professor Snape had stopped teaching the class, in fact. Granted, his Defence Against the Dark Arts grades had dropped a bit - but Professor Snape was much, much less scary out of his dungeons and in a regular classroom setting. And Colin had been helping him with his homework, which was nice, because Colin was quite good at Defence Against the Dark Arts. Amongst other things.  
"As much as I hate to say it," Ron interrupted, "I agree with Neville."  
Hermione laughed at that. "You agree with Neville?" She echoed with mock surprise.   
Harry grinned. "We all know why he's in a hurry to get there, don't we?" He teased, winking at Ron and laughing when he saw his best friend blushing.   
"Yes, yes." Hermione chimed in, noticing that that was her cue to speak. Teasing Ron was terribly fun. Especially when said teasing was about Penelope.   
Ron moaned lightly and would have buried his head in his hands, had his hands not been full. Of course, what they said was true - which tended to make it all the worse. The worse for Ron, mind...the better for his tormentors.   
At the beginning of the school year, Professor Snape had finally been given the chance to teach the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, a position he had been eyeing for years. Which meant, of course, that a new Professor of Potions was needed. And so Penelope Clearwater -a former Ravenclaw who had spent her last three years at a Muggle university earning a degree in education - became the new Professor of Potions. She did a fabulous job at it; many of the students who had been awkward around Professor Snape improved greatly in Professor Clearwater's class.   
"I don't think we're late." Neville said suddenly, reaching for the heavy door into the Potion's classroom. He managed to open it, then took one small, cautious step into the room. Then he stopped dead in his tracks. You never did know, did you?  
"Neville? Neville, what is it?" Hermione hissed behind him.  
"No-nothing." Neville said, turning quite pale. He was not going to show fear, he was...oh, but he couldn't help it. He yelped suddenly, almost losing his grip on his books. He dropped his inkwell in the process; it shattered with a dull chiming.  
"Ten points from Gryffindor," intoned a sickeningly familiar sarcastic voice. "For keeping us all waiting, Mr. Longbottom."  
Neville, shivering, walked completely into the room and began picking up his spilled papers, quickly bolting to his seat. Hermione followed, a strange expression on her face.  
"Miss Granger...Mr. Potter..." The Professor said, a rather evil smile on his face as he watched Hermione and Harry enter the room.  
"Professor Snape, sir?" Hermione said, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Where's Professor Clearwater?"  
"She's been...oh, how shall I put this? Expelled...no, that's for students. Dismissed, put on probation." Professor Snape paced around the front of the room, and stopped when his eyes fell on Ron. "Ah, yes. Mr. Weasley. I'm quite surprised to see you here, considering the nature of Miss Clearwater's expulsion."  
Professor Snape watched with a rather satisfied grin as the look of horror on Ron's face was quickly replaced by a frantic blushing as everyone turned to stare, incredulously, at Ron. Ron Weasley, who was Penelope Clearwater's unofficial boyfriend. (And since that was supposed to be rather secret, of course, everyone knew.)  
# # #  
At the end of the longest and most trying Potions class of Ron Weasley's life, he quickly got up from his seat and bolted from the classroom.   
Hermione quickly followed him; she could guess his probable reaction and wanted to catch up with him before he did something stupid. "Ron!" She exclaimed, reaching out and taking a hold of his shoulder. "Ron, where are you going?"  
He looked at her as if she were an idiot. "I'm going to find her, of course."  
Hermione sighed. "Ron...Ron, you know you can't do that. You'll get her into more trouble than she already is!" When she saw Ron's stricken look, she realised she probably shouldn't have said that last part. "Ron...do you think you can tell me what happened?"  
Ron sighed. "Yes...yes, I suppose I'd better. It was...it was all perfectly innocent really. Mostly." He blushed a bit at that, which made Hermione smile gently at him.   
"Mostly?" She pressed.  
"Yes. Mostly." Ron shook his head, trying to work up the courage to continue. He felt rather silly, talking about what happened, but...well...he had to, because the conclusion that people were probably jumping to was much more damaging than the truth. "Well...um...remember the other day? When I went back to Penelope's room after class?"  
She laughed lightly at that. "Like you always do?" Hermione said gently. "I don't remember specifically, but..."  
"Well, yes. I went back to her room with her. And she was...she was wearing her hair up, you know how she does?" He gestured to the top of his head, trying to explain it. "Um...plaited and up on her head with a million pins in it."  
"Yes, I know," Hermione replied. "A very sensible thing to do, if you ask me." In their first week of school, Hermione always cringed when she saw Penelope leaning over smoking cauldrons filled with uncertain mixtures. Her long curly hair would hover within centimetres of the potions...and then one time Penelope slipped and leaned over too far and half of her hair ended up an interesting shade of pink. Ever since that incident, Penelope took the precaution of wearing her hair pinned up and far out of the way.  
"Well, anyway...she had her hair up..." Ron said, his blush deepening. "And I started...um...taking it down for her." Which was all quite true. "Taking out the pins and...stuff."   
"Yes?" Hermione prompted.   
"Well...yes. So I was doing that." He wasn't sure it was possible to blush quite that much, yet he was doing it. "Taking down her hair. And then McGonagall walked in and..." Ron shrugged. "And she saw us and was completely and entirely scandalised."   
"Scandalised? From that?" Hermione said, and then gave Ron a look. "And that's all that you were doing?"  
Ron's eyes widened. "Yes!" He protested. "We had been kissing...um, a little bit, but..." He shrugged. "But McGonagall...was completely horrified. She turned quite pale and mumbled something about improper behaviour and stomped off. And I left and...and I hadn't seen Penelope except in class since." He shook his head. "I can only assume that McGonagall took what she saw as a prelude to...other things." And with that Ron began blushing again.   
"Hmm. Perhaps. Or perhaps..." Hermione looked suddenly very triumphant. "Well...have you ever seen her with her hair down? Ever? Professor McGonagall, that is?"  
"No."  
"Neither have I. Neither has anyone. Perhaps...perhaps she has a sort of hair-modesty." Hermione shrugged. "My mother does, although it's the opposite sort. She never wears hers up...she always keeps the back of her neck covered."  
"What?" Ron returned after a moment, completely confused.  
"Well, that's not the point, is it? Maybe to Professor McGonagall, wearing one's hair down is something that's just not done...and to see you taking her hair down for her was a great intimacy."   
"You're crazy, aren't you!" Ron said, a smile on his face. "Trying to figure out exactly why McGonagall was scandalised. The point was that she was...and that they've gone and dismissed Penelope." His face fell. "It's terribly unfair...we hadn't been doing anything!" And he blushed again after saying that, something else he hadn't meant to say.  
"Ron..." Hermione said, giving him a sweet smile. "Ron, love, I believe you. I do. And I think right now...I think we should tell Harry. And find out what he thinks." She reached out and put one hand on his arm, trying to guide him back towards the Gryffindor common-room.   
"But! But...but Hermione, I have to go see her..." Ron pulled away from Hermione suddenly, trying to go in the opposite direction, towards the hidden wing where the teachers lived.  
"Oh, Ron...Ron!" She grabbed onto a corner of his robes, pulling him back towards her. "Ron, please...you can't. If they find you there, again..." She trailed off, hoping that Ron would understand. "You can always...send her a message...later? Or something?"  
He sighed, and gave Hermione a defeated look. "Yes," he finally agreed. "Yes, you're probably right." And he let Hermione lead him away, back to the relative safety of the Gryffindor common-room.  
# # #  
Penelope Clearwater paced around her room irritably, near tears, as she gathered up her belongings and carefully packed them away in boxes. It wasn't fair...it just wasn't fair. None of it was.  
A tiny globe of blue light hovered near her face; the manifestation of a long-distance talking spell, with effects similar to a Muggle telephone. Her first impulse after hearing that she was to be...dismissed...was to call her parents. Of course, that was impossible. Her parents had both retired from their jobs, sold their house, and embarked on a life of adventure. They were currently off on holiday in Africa. So Penelope had to settle for the next best thing: her older brother Gordon.  
Which, in retrospect, was probably not one of her better ideas. Her older brother had always been one of her best friends. Of course, after graduating from Hogwarts, Gordon took a job with the Daily Prophet, and now was working under the infamous Rita Skeeter. Normally this posed no problems between Gordon and Penelope - why would it? However, given the events at hand... He had been excited to hear from her and promptly asked her what had happened. Not thinking, Penelope told him exactly what happened. She didn't realise his intentions until he asked her for clarifications on points...and then informed her that she'd just given him his next big headline.  
"So you're saying that that's true?" Said her brother's voice, excitedly, from the blue ball of light.  
Penelope sighed. "We've already been through this once, Gordon," she reminded him. "What is true? What is true is that I'm being temporarily dismissed from Hogwarts until the New Year. End of story." She turned back to her closet and began taking her robes out, one at a time, attempting to fold them neatly.  
"End of story? Oh, no, Penny-love. It is most definitely not the end of the story." Gordon told Penelope in triumphant tones. "Most definitely not the end of the story at all." His voice seemed to ooze.  
Penelope growled, flinging a handful of half-folded robes towards one of her boxes. "Gordon...Gordon, can I ask you a favour? Can you stop being the star reporter for just a moment? Please?" She said, a bit harsher than she intended to.   
"All right, all right." Gordon returned, apologetically, yet with a hint of sarcasm. And then, a bit more kindly, "But Penelope...if you don't let me print the truth...they'll slander you."   
She sighed, knowing that what he said had a lot of merit. "Yes, Gordon, I know. I've already told you what happened; that was the true story." It was...mostly the true story. The fact that she loved Ron was equally true, although omitted from her story. The truth of love had no place in the sensationalised media.   
Penelope turned back towards her closet, rubbing at her stinging eyes. She felt as though she wanted to cry, but couldn't quite bring herself to do it. Everything had been happening so fast - one moment she had been on top of the world, with a job teaching at Hogwarts, sharing her company with someone she loved and liked to think loved her. But she hadn't heard a word from him since...the incident, and now she had been dismissed temporarily, perhaps permanently from her job and her story was going on the front pages of the Wizarding newspapers.  
Her closet emptied, Penelope turned her attention to the rest of the room. It was almost as bare and impersonal as it had been when she arrived. Her owl's cage stood open and empty on her desk...and one of her walls was still covered in photographs.  
She felt a sad wrenching in her heart as she reached over and began to charm the photographs off of her wall, remembering the assistance a certain Ron Weasley had given her when she decorated. Penelope had photographs of all of the important times in her life...and she'd never gotten around to having one taken of her and Ron. Perhaps now, she'd never have the chance.  
Penelope sat down suddenly on her bed, clutching a small silver picture-frame in her hands, feeling the tears finally coming to her eyes.   
"Penny?" Gordon asked from the little ball of blue light that still hovered near Penelope's face. "Penny, love, are you crying?"   
She looked over at the spell, surprised - somehow, she had forgotten that it was there. "Yes." She admitted in a small voice. "Oh, Gordon...what am I going to do? Whatever in the world am I going to do? I've nowhere to go, nothing to do...no one to help me."  
At the window, an owl hooted, and Penelope stood up and crossed the room to let him in. "Well, I've got you, love, haven't I?" She said in an undertone, smiling at the ivory barn-owl as he perched on her shoulder. "You and me, Telemachus, against the world." She walked over to the wall and finished charming the pictures off...not because she was feeling much better, but because she knew that it had to get done.  
"Oh, Penny..." Gordon said warmly, sounding more like the strong older brother Penelope remembered and less like the bloodthirsty reporter. "Penelope, you're going to do what you always do. You're going to pick up the pieces and become strong again. And once you do, you're going to convince them that you deserve your job back."  
"I mean...it's not exactly as if I can go home to mother? Where should I go, what should I do?"   
She could sense that Gordon was flinching. "I'd offer to let you come stay with us, but we've barely enough room for the three of us as it is." He said, softly.  
"Yes...yes." Penelope agreed, closing her box with a great flourish and using a spell to shrink it to the size of a gift-box that she could pack easily in her small suitcase. "I have to leave Hogwarts tonight. I could look for a room in Hogsmeade, I suppose, but..." It was apparent in her voice that she did not like that option at all. In Hogsmeade, she'd be surrounded by prying eyes and copies of the Daily Prophet.  
"Hey!" Gordon said suddenly. "I've an idea. Why don't you look up...what's his name? Your old boyfriend...the writer? I'm sure he owes you a favour."  
"Percy?"  
Percy.  
# # #  
"Percy?"  
The red-haired wizard looked up guiltily from the open book in his lap. "Yes?" He said in a small voice, absently pushing his glasses back up his nose.  
"You haven't been listening, have you?"  
"Of course I have!" Percy replied, and then shook his head, a sheepish smile on his face. "Mostly."   
"Mostly, hmm? Well..." The other man winked at Percy, before standing up and proceeding to sit in Percy's chair, managing somehow to squeeze himself in next to Percy. "What are you reading?" He breathed.  
"Oh...it's about Japan. Fascinating people, Japanese wizards." Percy replied, eyes again straying to the text.   
"Fascinating, are they?"  
"Of course."  
"Know what else is fascinating?"  
"You?" Percy suggested, turning away from the book for a moment. Or two. And then he stopped kissing Oliver and turned back to his reading.  
Oliver Wood sighed, a small smile on his face, and threw his arm around Percy, pillowing his head on his love's shoulder. The two of them sat there in silence, reading and daydreaming and just being together, enjoying living la vie quotidienne.   
Not that their lives could really be described as 'just everyday', by any means. Oliver Wood - former Quidditch star at Hogwarts - was now a Quidditch star for all of England and playing on the English national team. It was currently the off-season for his sport, so Oliver had been home for a bit. But after New Years, the entire team was travelling to Japan to play the first match in the international Quidditch competitions.  
Percy's life, was far more commonplace. After assorted near-scandals in the Ministry of Magic, Percy left his job there. There was nothing much he disliked more than corruption. He wrote a series of articles for the Daily Prophet about his time at the Ministry, which were surprisingly a great success. Percy never thought of himself as a writer - dozens of articles about cauldron thickness regulations notwithstanding - but a writer he became. He was able to find freelance work for both Wizarding and Muggle publications. It was a wonderful job. The best part about it was that he was able to spend nights like this, cosily drowsing in his living-room with his love...his Oliver. They had both come a long way from that day in the Prefect's Bathroom at Hogwarts, the day when Penelope had first brought them together.   
"Mmm...Perce? Do you hear that?"  
"Hear...what?" Percy returned, sleepily.  
"That!" Oliver said, and paused a moment, listening. "It sounds like someone's at our door."  
"At our door?" Percy sat up, closed the book, set it aside. "Who could be visiting, unexpected, at this hour?"  
# # #  
Penelope smiled at the taxi-driver as she counted money into his callused palm. With a small sigh, she took her suitcase in one hand and Telemachus's cage in the other and stepped out into the street. And directly into a puddle, she realised, and winced as she felt the cold wetness soaking through her shoes and nylons. This just...wasn't her day.  
She began walking up the side-street (on a hill, of course) towards Percy and Oliver's tiny house, feeling the rain batter against her head and shoulders. She slipped suddenly, nearly falling, flailing her arms until she could get her balance. Telemachus hooted softly at her from inside the covered cage, upset at the upset motion. "I'm sorry, love." Penelope whispered to her owl. "We're almost there. I hope." She had a strange sickening feeling of doubt...they were old friends, of course. They were still rather good friends, always had been. But friendship only stretched so far; especially if one of the friends was currently having scandalous accusations made about her and the younger brother of the other friend.  
Penelope paused in front of the door to Percy and Oliver's house, setting down her suitcase and moving the strands of wet hair out of her face. "This is it...wish us luck!" She whispered to Telemachus, and then stepped forward and began ringing the bell.  
# # #  
Percy managed to get to his feet and opened the door, his eyes widening at the unexpected sight of a waterlogged Penelope on his doorstep, suitcase in one hand and birdcage in the other.   
"Hello Percy...may I come in?"   
(End Part I) 


	2. Anything plain can be lovely, anything l...

Title: Lovers in a Dangerous Time  
Author: Elske  
Email: theladyingrey@yahoo.com  
Status: Work in progress (2/?)  
Category: Romance, Drama  
Spoilers: A teensy bit for CoS, for the other stories I've written, I suppose  
Season/Sequel info: It takes place in Harry Potter (and the rest's) 7th year, it comes directly after my "Hero of my Dreams"  
Rating: PG  
Content Warnings: some non-graphic homosexual content (Percy/Oliver, another pairing alluded to) It's all very sweet, but some people don't like any of that, so...  
Summary: Ooo, something long and in chapters! What happens when the sensible side of Elske says 'wait a minute...students can't date teachers'. Mostly a Penelope story, also starring Ron (yes, this is Penny-n-Ron) and Percy and Oliver...cameos by Neville and Harry and Hermione, of course. (I also managed to quote 19th century French poet Arthur Rimbaud in this chapter, cookies to anyone who finds it!)  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters are the property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros... This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.   
Thanks to: First and foremost, Teague, for being my wonderful beta! Also, thanks to Erin for letting me invade her dorm room and borrow her computer after I broke the quotation mark/apostrophe card on mine. And thanks to Ciel and DMlet for research and info about the Chudley Cannons and chocolate frog cards. :)  
  
"Lovers in a Dangerous Time"  
by Elske  
(Part II)  
Anything plain can be lovely, anything loved can be lost, what if I lost my direction, what if our love is the cost - Steven Page   
  
Ron Weasley sat in a chair in the corner of the Gryffindor common-room, curled up in a little ball, chin resting on his knees. It just...it wasn't fair, not really. She didn't even say goodbye to him. He had gone to see her, the night of her dismissal. In the middle of the night he had borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak and sneaked off to Penelope's room. And she was already gone, along with all of her things. It was as though she'd never existed; as though Ron had been dreaming the entire time.   
"Ron?" A soft voice asked in his ear as a hand closed over his shoulder, and Ron jumped.  
"Oh!" She said, flinching. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You just...weren't listening. Are you all right?"  
He sighed. "I'm fine, Ginny." For a moment, for a split-second moment, he'd thought it was her.   
"Are you sure? You've been all...all funny lately. Do...do you want to talk about it?"  
He didn't really, but he did and...and before he knew it he was moving over in the overstuffed chair so that Ginny could perch herself on one of the arms of it. "What is there to talk about, really..." Ron said softly. "My girlfriend just lost her job because of me. She hasn't spoken to me since."  
"Ohhh, Ron." Ginny saw immediately to one of the more hidden causes of Ron's upset - being afraid for his relationship with Penny. "Ron, she's probably been very busy. They probably didn't give her time to come talking to you...they probably just packed her up and shipped her off right away. She's probably upset right now about the fact that she didn't get to see you again. And besides..." Ginny added with a sly wink. "It's just as much her fault as it is yours, isn't it?"  
Ron sighed. "Ginny..." he said softly. She didn't quite understand. His little sister was very much a romantic, in every sense of the word.   
"Ron? Oh...oh, there you are. We've been looking all over." Hermione said, pressing her palm to her chest, trying to catch her breath.   
"I've been...sitting here...since dinner." Ron returned, confused.  
"Harry! I've found him!" Hermione called across the Common Room; Harry heard and ran across the room to the others.   
"I've been right here since dinner. Just sitting here." Ron said. "I shouldn't have been that hard to find. What's going on?"  
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, matching looks of apprehension on their faces. One could almost read the unspoken thought hanging between them, do you want to tell him or should I? Finally Harry sighed, and handed a piece of paper to Ron. "It's the front page of today's Daily Prophet," He explained.  
Ron took the paper gingerly and looked at the headline. "Hogwarts temporarily down by one staff member: Professor neither confirms nor denies allegations," he read, and then his eyes dropped to the by-line. "By...Gordon Clearwater Everhaven?" His voice rose in disbelief. "Bloody hell." He whispered, feeling his heart sinking in his chest.   
  
# # #  
Penelope walked lightly down the stairs of Percy and Oliver's tiny house, dressed in plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a faded oversized Chudley Cannons tee-shirt, her hair up in a towel on top of her head. They had been kind, very kind indeed, to let her stay with them until she got back on her feet.  
"Finally!" Percy said with a sigh, as Penelope walked into the living room. "You take the longest showers of anyone I've ever known."  
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "At least she sings on-key." He commented dryly.  
Percy snorted and went upstairs to take his shower, looking at his watch as he went. He had a meeting this morning with some newspaper people; he was going to attempt to ask the press to be nicer about Penelope's so-called scandal, but he wasn't sure if that would go over very well. At all. The press lived for scandals. Still, there was no harm in trying, was there?  
"I didn't know you supported the Cannons." Oliver said conversationally.  
"What? Oh...oh!" Penelope laughed. "I forgot I was wearing it...it's my favourite shirt, I've had it forever. I like the Cannons. They never win, do they? I like that...it's a desirable quality in a sports team, at least in my opinion." She grinned at Oliver as she moved to sit down on the sofa.  
"You and my little brother are their only two fans, I think." Percy called from halfway up the stairs, listening to their conversation.   
Penelope laughed at that. "Stop eavesdropping and go take your shower!" She ordered him, and then turned back to Oliver. "You never played for the Cannons, did you?" The vaguely horrified look on Oliver's face at that suggestion told Penelope everything she needed to know. She smiled. "I suppose that means no. But you've always been better than them, haven't you?"  
"For a long time, yes." Oliver replied, smiling at Penelope. Their conversation was soon interrupted, however, by the arrival of Telemachus and Hermes, bringing in the day's mail.  
"Telemachus!" Penelope said happily as her owl delicately dropped the mail in her lap and flew around her in a circle, looking for treats. "Hello, love. No...no, I don't have anything...I'm sorry." She told him as he hooted softly at her. "Go bother uncle Oliver, yes, that's a good boy."  
"Penny...I've my hands full with this one!" Oliver reproached her, laughing, as he stood up and took the canister of owl-treats down from the mantle and gave one each to Hermes and Telemachus. To his surprise, they didn't stay and beg for more, they cooperated for once and flew upstairs to the attic where they slept.  
"Hmm...let's see...what have they decided to print today?" Penelope said, unfolding the Daily Prophet. She flinched at the sight of the main headline on the front page, her eyes catching the phrase 'Hogwarts Professor runs to Beauxbatons: French accustomed to scandalous love affairs' printed in wide block letters. Her "scandal" had been the biggest news for days now, and she wasn't sure how much of that she could stand. Her brother's article had been mostly truth, and that was fine - although it had upset her at the time, it was quite mild in retrospect. The problem is that that article was followed by a dozen more, each with less and less bits of truth in them. Now all that was left was rumours, but they were being printed anyway. She sighed, letting the paper drop to the ground. She just...didn't have the energy to deal with it today.  
# # #  
Percy finished his shower in record time - without singing anything for once, although that had more to do with the fact that he was in a hurry than the earlier harsh comments on his singing. From the bedroom he could hear bits of the conversation drifting up to him from downstairs. Penelope. She was an interesting addition to their little household. Of all the people he expected to see at his door that night, she was probably one of the last.  
And...of all the people in the world he ever expected to fall in love with his little brother...she was probably one of the last of those too, he thought. Although they did suit each other, he realised. They both liked the Chudley Cannons, for one thing, and if that didn't spell out a future of undying love, what did?   
If he had heard about their relationship under any different circumstances, Percy mused, he probably would have been rather envious. Just a little bit. Because his brother was able to fall in love with Penelope as Percy himself wasn't, because the relationship between Ron and Penelope was, on the surface, an easy one. But it wasn't; it certainly wasn't simple, by any means. Not simple at all.   
He paused to take a last look at himself in the mirror and smooth out imaginary wrinkles in his best set of dress-robes. And then he adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses and went back down the stairs to say goodbye to Oliver...and to Penelope.  
Oliver met him half-way. "Good luck in your meeting." He whispered to Percy. "I don't think she can take much more."  
"Another one today?"  
"Of course."  
Percy sighed. It stung him too, it really did, to read such things about his little brother and one of his best friends. Even if they weren't allowed to print Ron Weasley's name, it was blatantly obvious who the un-named "tall handsome red-haired seventh-year Gryffindor house Hogwarts student whose best friend is The Boy Who Lived" was, wasn't it? "Do you need me to stay? Will she be okay?" He asked softly, thinking back to the day when Penelope read the first of the damning headlines - written by her own brother - and fell to pieces.  
"No, you should go. If you achieve the goal of your meeting, that will be a better help. As much as I'd love you to stay..." Oliver's eyes sparkled as he grinned at Percy, "I think you'd be better off leaving."  
"You're probably right. Take good care of her."  
"I will." Oliver said, drawing Percy into his arms for a proper goodbye.  
# # #  
  
She was not going to lose it, she wasn't. It wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth more of her tears. Nothing was. At least, this was what she kept telling herself. She was almost starting to believe it...almost.   
"Bye, love." Percy said in her ear as he passed the sofa where she was sitting, leaning over to leave a quick kiss on her cheek.   
"Bye...Perce." Penelope said softly, watching him go. He reminded her of Ron, sometimes. Like when he did something sweet, like that. But she was not going to think about Ron, that would be quite counter-productive.  
She sat there alone on the sofa, listening to Oliver doing...something upstairs. She could hear him walking around; he didn't exactly walk lightly. After a while he emerged - Penelope assumed triumphantly, given the way he was running down the stairs.  
"Here we are then." He said, sitting down next to her.  
"What?"  
"I found us some chocolate." Oliver grinned as he held out the bag with the logo from Hogsmeade's finest candy shop on it. "Chocolate frogs, actually...all of the fancy stuff is gone."  
"Chocolate is chocolate." Penelope returned. "You're quite clever...you must have sisters, then...to know to bring an upset woman chocolate," she joked.  
"No sisters, I'm afraid. No sisters, no brothers, no father - just my mum. But still, you don't live with my mum for that long and not pick up a few things." He winked at her and handed her one of the brightly-wrapped chocolate frogs.  
"Thank you." She said, beginning to delicately unwrap it. As soon as she got the packaging open, Penelope carefully slipped the collectors card out...and then suddenly reached out, bashing the wrapped candy against the table with a loud crack.  
"That's one way to deal with your anger, isn't it?" Oliver offered.  
Penelope laughed at that. "I suppose so...I always tend to bash my chocolate up into little pieces. It goes more slowly that way." She delicately extracted a sliver of chocolate from the packet and placed it in her mouth.   
"Who's your card?" Oliver asked.  
"I didn't look..." She reached for the card she had carefully placed aside, and snorted when she saw who it was. "Circe." She announced, and then in a soft yet slightly angry voice, added "Bitch."  
"What?"  
"Circe. She seduced and slept with Odysseus. Therefore she was a bitch." Penelope smiled an evil grin at Oliver. "She seduced him, and that meant that he was cheating on his wife, Penelope. Who was my favourite character from The Odyssey- for obvious reasons - so consequently..." She shrugged neatly.   
Oliver laughed. "Glad to see you feeling better." He said, shaking his head.  
"Who said I was feeling better?" She said with a soft sigh.  
"I've...Ptolemy." Oliver held up the chocolate-frog card, in a desperate attempt to change the subject.  
"Really?" Penelope looked over at him, interested. "It sounds familiar...can I have it?"  
"Of course. I didn't know you collected them."  
"I don't, Ron does, and...oh." She suddenly went very, very pale. "Oh, Oliver...Oliver, my boyfriend collects chocolate-frog cards."   
He looked at Penelope for a long moment, trying to think of what he could possibly say to that, finally settling for "Yes, he does."   
"Oh, Oliver!" She said, near to tears. "How...pathetic..."  
"Penelope, Penelope..." He soothed, or attempted to. "Penelope, it's okay...he's only seventeen...he's allowed to..." Oliver bit his lip suddenly, realising that that probably wasn't the smartest thing to say.   
"Only seventeen. And one is not serious at seventeen years old, Oliver." Penelope blinked away the tears that prickled at her eyes. She had much bigger, greater problems to think about...like her job, her future...but her mind kept being pulled back to the one and only Ron Weasley.   
"Sometimes people are." Oliver said quietly. "Sometimes they are."  
"I know I wasn't." Penelope returned, pondering. "Of course, I thought I was at the time. I thought I was terribly, terribly serious at seventeen. Letting Percy go...making Percy go," she corrected, which earned a smile from Oliver. "But when I look back on it, I wasn't serious at all, was I? Not at all, not compared to...to now." A sudden thought crossed her mind, and she smiled at the irony. "Of course, I'm not very serious even now, am I? I've a million things that I should be worrying about and all I can think of is him."  
# # #   
At Hogwarts, the students sat and picked over the remains of their breakfasts while waiting for the mail to arrive. It was one of the bright spots in their gloomy days - winter was coming and the days grew shorter and darker. It was almost time for the winter holidays, but there were still a few more days left to go: the longest few days in the entire school year.  
"Ron?" Hermione asked. "Ron, are you okay? You haven't touched your breakfast." This was indeed unusual, and a valid cause for concern.  
"What? Oh, yes...I'm fine." Ron lied bravely. It was almost time for the mail, the most depressing and difficult moment in Ron Weasley's day. He had cancelled his subscription to the Daily Prophet after the second feature article about the Scandal at Hogwarts, so that was one weight off of his shoulders. Of course, the other students still got the paper, and often helpfully informed him of what he missed in the articles he didn't read.   
And there was also the constant stream of letters from people who wanted to give him advice or condemn him or inform him of his rights. He threw those away, unanswered. Dumbledore often found himself buried under letters addressed to a "Professor Clearwater, Hogwarts School", delivered to him by the confused owls who were unable to find a Professor Clearwater at Hogwarts School. Penelope, perhaps sensibly, left no forwarding address.  
Ron sat there, staring down into his breakfast cereal, facing those glum thoughts, unaware that over his head Harry and Hermione were exchanging pointed glances. Someone somewhere shouted something about the mail, and Ron looked up and flinched at the sound of wingbeats.   
There were a few unfamiliar owls surrounding Ron today, but not many. Perhaps the novelty of his situation was perhaps finally wearing off? He counted only three letters from strangers - which he swept up into a pile and banished to the fireplace with a quick whispered spell. The two letters that he had left, now...both seemed interesting. One of them was from his mother, and the other was from...Percy? Both Hermes and a very exhausted looking Errol remained perched at the breakfast table, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement. Ron broke one of his uneaten pieces of toast in half and split it evenly between the two owls, who hooted their thanks before returning to the owlery for a much-deserved rest.  
Ron turned his attention first to the letter from his mother. He was not really looking forward to reading whatever it was Percy had to say.  
  
Dear Ron:  
I hope you're not letting the newspapers get you discouraged. We all love you very much here. Your father and I are thinking about you. You are very strong and brave and we're proud of you. Are you sure you want to stay at Hogwarts over the Winter Holidays? You're welcome to come home, we'd like to see you. The twins will be there, of course, and I think Bill is coming home for Christmas this year. We're trying to convince Percy to come too, although he's not said for sure. If he is, he might be bringing company, someone special. You could invite Penelope to come, we'd love to have her. I'm dying to meet her. Well, I won't write you a novel, I just wanted to let you know that we love you and we're thinking about you.   
Love, Mum  
  
He smiled as he read it. His mum always sounded funny in her letters. Well...that might explain the letter from Percy. Was he too writing about the Winter Holidays? Probably. Ron still wasn't sure what he was doing. He half wanted to go home, but he was a little afraid of facing his family and a little afraid of what his family might have to say about the whole mess. On the same token, he was a little afraid of staying behind at Hogwarts, where he would have to answer to his classmates. Harry would be staying over the holiday, as always. And Ron overheard Hermione talking about how she might stay behind too - so Ron would have her to deal with. He had yet to decide which was the better choice.  
Hesitantly, he reached for the letter from his brother, uncertain about what Percy might have to say. Ron unfolded the letter, and then blinked when he saw the writing. It was the polar opposite of Percy's embarrassingly neat tiny handwriting; it was a large and loopy and almost effeminate script. His first illogical thought was that it came from Penelope...but he knew her handwriting too, and this was not it. Curious, he flipped the letter over and found the signature...Oliver Wood. Oliver Wood?  
  
Dear Ron,  
I'll bet it comes as a surprise to be getting a letter from me of all people, especially from your brother's owl. There are a lot of explanations we owe you, I'm sure. I don't have the time to explain them now. Remind me later and I'll fill you in on the whole story. Anyway, I'm not writing about me or about Percy. I'm writing about Penelope. She would kill me if she knew I was doing this. Few people realise I'm a sap at heart. I do that on purpose - who would take me seriously if they knew? I really hope this doesn't fall into the wrong hands, both for that and for what I'm going to say. She loves you, Ron. Penelope loves you. She is here with us. I thought you might like to know. But remember...I told you none of this. I am a big bad Quidditch player, I scoff at romantic nonsense! Right.  
Yours, Oliver Wood  
  
Ron sat there, staring at the letter for a long time, before clumsily folding it up and tucking it into an inside pocket in his robes. It had given him something to think about.   
"Ron! Ron!" Hermione and Harry called, a split-second apart from in unison, from across the room.   
He jumped, almost guiltily, and turned to look at them.  
"It's time for potions. Come on!" Hermione called.  
Ron smiled and shook away his wandering thoughts, standing up and following his two friends off to their now-dreaded Potions Class.  
# # #  
  
With a flourish, Neville Longbottom signed his name at the bottom of the list of students who were staying at Hogwarts over the winter holidays. He smiled at the look of the list, his eyes catching the last two names on the list...Colin Creevy, Neville Longbottom. This Christmas was looking as though it would be a very happy Christmas indeed, Neville thought.  
"I don't know why they even bother making me sign it anymore." Harry Potter said from over Neville's shoulder. "I mean...I always stay here."   
Neville smiled as he turned around and handed Harry the paper. "You do."  
"You don't usually stay here, do you?" Harry looked up at Neville after signing the parchment.   
"No, not really..." He said, with a small absent smile on his face.  
Harry looked from the paper to Neville and back to the paper - and then he got a small knowing smile on his face, thinking that Neville must be excited for the upcoming holidays. "But you are this year?"  
"Hmm? Oh, yes." Neville continued staring out into space, daydreaming..."Good...good." Harry laughed lightly as he turned away from Neville. "I've never seen him this happy in Potions class." He murmured in an undertone to Hermione.  
"Who, Neville?"  
"Mmm-hmm."  
Hermione stepped forward to add her name to the list. "Hallo Neville." She said brightly, signing her name just under Harry's.   
"What? Oh, hello, Hermione." Neville returned hastily, trying to return to the real world.   
"You're staying here for Christmas, I take it?"   
"Yes..." Neville said, that same happy smile returning to his face.  
Hermione shook her head as she went back to her seat near the back of the room. "He's in love." She told Harry bluntly.  
"In love? Neville?" Harry stammered, sounding rather shocked. He looked at Neville, wondering who in the world Neville could possibly be in love with.  
She snorted. "Men...you're so clueless."  
Harry stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head and sat down next to Ron. Ron, who was currently occupied in studying for their Potions Lab practical examination, didn't blink an eye when Harry sat down.  
"Ron?" Hermione said lightly as she took the seat on the other side of Ron. "Ron? Ron?" When it was obvious that he had successfully stopped listening to everything and blocked out all the outside noises, Hermione sighed and leaned forward, taking his shoulder and shaking it. "Ron!"  
He jumped and yelped slightly, and then looked at Hermione rather sheepishly. "I'm sorry...what is it?"  
"Didn't you say that you were going to stay here? Over the holidays? Neville has the list...to sign up. If you're staying."  
Neville heard his name and turned around, watched the three others, listening to their conversation.  
"Oh." Ron said softly, and went back to his studying.  
"Have you figured it out yet?" Harry asked.  
"Yes." He smiled a rather cryptic smile.  
After another minute passed and Ron made no motion to get up and sign the paper, Hermione ventured a guess. "So...you're going home, then?"  
"No."  
"Oh. So you're staying here, then?"  
Ron looked back and forth from Hermione to Harry. "Not exactly."  
"Then...?"  
He sighed. "I'm going...somewhere else."   
"Somewhere else? Do your parents know?" Hermione demanded, in her normal mother-hen fashion.  
"No." He admitted. "They think I'm staying here. Hogwarts thinks I'm going home."   
Neville flinched. It was a very risky plan. He was glad he had...safer plans for the holidays. And then he smiled again, with the thought of the holidays, the winter holidays and anticipated happiness.   
"Oh Ron!" Hermione sighed. "You could get in so much trouble."  
Ron's eyes glittered. "Sometimes it's worth it, isn't it?" He breathed.  
# # #  
Penelope sighed, turning a page in her book. She was all alone in the little house - Oliver and Percy had gone out for a day-and-night on the town. A much-deserved day-and-night on the town, Penelope thought. They were being good sports for putting up with her as much as they were, for as long as they had. She really needed to start looking for a place of her own, she thought absently, as her eyes returned to the words. She'd been a third-wheel for far too long.  
Her mind kept wandering, however, and she was having trouble concentrating on her reading. Today, she realised, the students of Hogwarts were let out on winter holidays. Christmas was rapidly approaching...Christmas and soon after that would be New Years. New Years, when she would have her meeting with Dumbledore and McGonagall - Albus and Minerva, she corrected herself. She was no longer their student, no, she was their colleague. Well, she was formerly their colleague. Whether or not she would continue to be would depend entirely on the meeting. And Penelope had no idea what would happen; none at all.   
She hadn't planned anything for it at all yet, had yet to think of a single convincing argument she could use to get her job back. Luckily, she still had time. A little time.  
Penelope turned the page out of habit, even though she knew she had no idea what happened on the one she just supposedly read. It was a rather dull book anyway...one of Percy's books. She'd already read all of his interesting books, and was now down to the dull ones. Any day now she would be upstairs rummaging through Oliver's things in order to find his Quidditch Manuals, having already read everything else in the house.  
The house was quiet, silent except for the regular chiming of Percy's prized Grandfather Clock every fifteen minutes. So Penelope noticed the noises outside immediately. She turned around to glance at the clock...almost a quarter-after-seven, much too early for it to be Percy and Oliver returning. Penelope really hoped not. One mail delivery per day was far enough.  
They rang the bell...once...twice. A pause, and then they rang it again. And again.  
With a sigh, Penelope got up to answer it, deciding that they were not about to go away. She hoped that it wasn't the press...she could manage to deal with anyone but the press.  
Penelope opened the door a crack. "Yes?" She said softly.  
"Penny?" A familiar voice asked, incredulously.   
A familiar voice...it couldn't be, could it? Hesitantly, she opened the door wider. "Ron?"  
(End Part II) 


End file.
